


My Brother's First Hunt

by getyourrocksalt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Brothers, Drama, Family, Feelings, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Love, One Shot, Paranormal, Pre-Series, Protective Dean Winchester, Sad, Short, Smart Sam Winchester, Supernatural Elements, Teen Dean Winchester, Teen Sam Winchester, Teen Winchesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getyourrocksalt/pseuds/getyourrocksalt
Summary: Sixteen year old Dean takes his younger brother with him on a salt and burn, but he soon regrets it when the hunt goes sideways and Sam finds himself in harm's way. Dean's POV. Pre-series.





	My Brother's First Hunt

  “Wait, I thought you were supposed to bring that”.  
My twelve-year old brother Sam stared at me with wide open eyes curtained by his fringe. He had frozen mid-action, holding the jerrycan over the six feet deep hole in the ground as the last drops fell out. Beneath our feet, the remains of Josephine Henrey are bared for the stars above to see for the first time in over a twenty five years. Gasoline shimmered on the bones, enough salt to keep the road to Hell from freezing over cover the body like snow on a winter’s day. Because on my first hunt without Dad, I just had to be safe. I stuffed enough supplies in my backpack to light up this entire graveyard... If I only had a lighter.  
  “What am I supposed to do with a lighter, Dean? You’re the one who smokes!”, Sam cried out.  
  “I do not!”, I denied, clearly lying through my teeth.  
  “Do to! I saw you with Jenny under the bleachers after practice”, Sam countered, triumph in his stance.  
  “That was one time!”  
  “Uh-huh.”  
I glared at him, not too keen on the attitude my little brother was giving me. Maybe he wasn’t as tall as me, yet, but the times that I could have fooled Sam were in the past.  
  “Fine. So maybe I do. But don’t even think about snitching on me and telling Dad, because I’ll kick your ass”, I warned him.  
  “Is that really the point now? Because we just dug up a body of an angry spirit without anything to start a fire”, my brother reminded me.  
  
He had a solid point. The fact that this matter was pressing became clear as soon as the atmosphere around us changed, a cold wind sending shivers down my spine as the temperature dropped immensely in only a few seconds. Suddenly the local cemetery had not seemed like such peaceful resting place anymore. The pitch black shadows of the trees and crypts drew long shades, creeping closer like they were trying to gulp us down. Something was coming, and we had to hurry.  
  “Dean?”, Sam whispers scared, scanning his surroundings.  
  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out”.  
I kneeled down next to the backpack, searching the extra pockets for anything that could act as a way to ignite the fuel. My little brother held the flashlight above me so that I could see what I was doing, his unsteady hands giving away that he was frightened. Truthfully, he wasn’t the only one, because I was scared shitless. At the age of sixteen I had a couple of hunts under my belt, always with Dad. He would track the thing, he would figure out what it was, he would kill it. I was just there to watch and learn, maybe to assist if it was easy enough. Never had I ever hunted by myself, but when I read a suspicious newspaper article in the local newspaper, I was crawling the walls of that suffocating hotel room. Dad was on a job in Minnesota and was gone for three weeks, yet something had to be done. I lasted a day after reading the article. My old man was going to kill me, that was a sure thing, but I couldn’t let anyone else die. Research turned out to be tough, but that’s where Sam came in. In no time he figured out whose ghost was haunting the old warehouse and where she was buried. But now that he had part in the case, the little pain in the ass wanted to come along. I was about to get in a lot of trouble for hunting alone on the age that only just allowed me to drive a car, let alone if I would take his twelve year old son with me on the job. But Sammy begged, giving me that puppy dog stare that I have always been a sucker for. Those same eyes were now shimmering fearfully, trying to read in mine if I had a plan to get us out of here. Boy, little Sam sure regretted it now. The beam from the torch flickered and soon our only lightsource died. Its owner slammed the flashlight in the palm of his hand a couple of times, but it weren’t faulty batteries nor the wiring that caused it to fail. I stood up, my brother mirroring me, as we alertly scanned the cemetery at night. All of a sudden Sam yanked the sleeve of the three sized too big leather jacket that Dad gave to me, and stared at a dark figure about thirty yards away. I gulped, my eyes widening, but before I could respond, the image of the bony old woman with dark messy hair hanging in front of her face vanished into thin air. Seeing her was scary, but not knowing where she was now ignited a whole new level of nervousness in me. _Shit!_ This was so not how I planned this. For a few terrifying seconds the spirit was gone and I gripped the piece of iron steel pipe that I had packed in case we would counter complications. 

“Listen to me, Sammy”, I said, keeping my voice down. “I need you to think of everything that Dad taught us so far. Don’t be scared, okay? I’ve got your back. But we need to keep our heads together now”.  
He only nodded, jaws clamped shut as his eyes darted from shadow to shadow. Then, out of nowhere the elderly woman flicked into my eyesight, right behind my little brother, claws out to get him.  
   “Sam, get down!”, I yelled.  
Without hesitation he dropped as I swung the steel bar over his head, tearing through the spirit of Josephine, who dissolved into smoky fog as I hit her. However, the ghost reappeared, obsessively focusing on Sam once again, and suddenly I remembered the connection the victims had; all were younger siblings. In shock I watched my little brother stumble back until he tripped over the backpack on the edge of the grave and fell.  
  “Sammy!”, I cried out.  
Witnessing the helplessness in his eyes which showed that even at his young age the little guy was very much aware that he was facing death, my instincts went on autopilot. Every fiber in me suddenly knew exactly what to do. I had to fulfill the task Dad gave to me when I carried my baby brother out of the fire twelve years ago. I had to protect him, with my life if necessary. That urge pushed all fear that I carried for this supernatural being out of the way and I fearlessly marched on the creature, my weapon above my head as I lunged myself at the ghost. Furious the spirit threw me off her back, but I got on my feet and held the line.  
  “You wanna kill someone that bad? Pick someone your own size!”, I challenged her, arrogantly spreading my arms.

A frightening hissing murmur erupted from her throat. Her eyes sank deeper into the dark holes of her sockets as her mouth opened so wide that I heard her jaw crack. Moving faster than my eyes could register the spirit speeded towards me and then froze. It was then when I was lifted from the ground like a feather and found myself in mid-air, being thrown several yards away. My course of flight was interrupted by a tree, hitting it head first. The impact caused my body to shut down as an sharp pain shot through my head and a wave of nausea disorientated me. Sammy? Where was Sammy? It was all I could think of. I had to make sure the ghost kept her focus on me, I had to give Sam a fair chance to get away. Fighting to keep my ground I sat up at the roots of the tree, trying to blink the black spots and odd colors from my blurred vision. By the time I managed to do so, the ghost of Josephine Henrey was hovering over me and there was no way I could escape her grip. As she placed her hand on my chest I felt every muscle in my body tense as my heart rate fastened to an unhealthy pace. The pain was unbearable and I cried out as her nails penetrated my skin. That was it, I realized. My first solo hunt was destined to be my last, I was going to die. Then suddenly, the ghost backed out, arching her back as she let out a horrifying scream. Flames engulfed her until there was nothing left but a few burning embers which twirled in the night sky. Not sure what just happened, I laid my head back against the bark, out of breath as the uneasiness wore off. Then my eyes caught Sam, standing next to the grave from which an orange light shimmered on his features. His innocence didn't seem compromised by the setting nor by his actions, but nevertheless he looked years older. Brown hair that was due for a haircut looked tussled in the excitement, the hoodie I used to wear and of which the sleeves had become too short got dirty during his fall. Although my brother was only twelve, I suddenly was aware of how fast he was growing up. That growth wasn't just physical, it was the ability to carry such responsibilities, his bright mind. His hazel eyes now jumped to me, still wild.  
  “You okay?”, he asked, worry in his young voice.  
  “Yeah yeah...”, I muttered as I got to my feet. “What took you so long?”  
  “You try starting a fire without a lighter or matchsticks with a vengeful spirit looking over your shoulder”, Sammy scoffed.  
He crouched down, collecting the empty jerrycan and his flashlight from the ground. After testing my balance first, I approached the fire pit slowly, feeling my forehead.  
  “How did you light up Josy anyway?”, I wondered.  
Sam picked up two pieces of rock and shows them to me.  
  “Two strike stones. Oldest survival trick in the book. Dad taught us, remember?”

Amazed I looked at him, proud of my younger sibling. That he thought of Dad’s survival lessons was impressive, but how he stayed calm enough to get a spark while I was under attack by that spirit, I didn't know. I was sure, though, that Sam had what it took to become exceptionally good at this job. He would fill Dad with as much pride as I carried in that moment. He was an outstanding hunter in the making. I smiled at Sammy, but masked my true feelings with my usual repertoire.  
  “Neat, but then of course you had all the time in the world while I had that ghost on my ass”.  
  “No, I didn't”, Sam objected, as we started walking back to the road. “You would have been dead if I hadn't been so fast”.  
  “I was handling it”, I shrugged.  
  “Really, huh? Yeah, you seemed to have everything under control”, my brother scoffed sarcastically.  
  “I did!”, I kept up, resting the wooden handle of the shovel on my shoulder, my wrist on the grip in order to balance it.  
  “Sure. You weren't scared either”.  
Sammy now glances up at me, victory shining in his eyes. Of course I wasn't going to admit that I was so frightened I nearly pissed my pants when that spirit worked me over. Fact was, though, that my love for my younger sibling unleashed a new form of bravery I never thought I had. Fear never stood a chance.  
  “I wasn't”, I returned cocky.  
  “Why did you scream like a girl then?”, my brother asked me.  
  “I didn't scream like a girl!”  
  “You so did.”  
  “She was trying to rip my heart out, asshat!”  
  “You still screamed like a girl”.

Bickering we strolled down the path, our walks synchronized like siblings often do. When we arrived at the main road, the lamppost shined a light on my brother much like one does now on Halloween night in Stanford, ten years later. Sam is taller, he even outgrew me, but he still has the same hair, the same lean posture and that same innocence. We just wrapped up a case considering a Woman In White, but since we didn't find our father like we set out to, I’m forced to drop him off at campus. An interview tomorrow morning is the reason our paths separate once again and there is nothing left but to face the road alone. From behind the wheel of Dad’s 67’ Impala I watch him walk away towards the apartment he shares with his girlfriend Jessica. I sigh as I lay my arm on the back of the seat, the passenger’s side already cold and empty. A tightness in my chest brings to mind how badly I want him to get back in the car and help me find Dad. But I can’t, I can't expect him to. How many hunters get out? How many hunters get to go to university and live a normal apple pie life? Few, but Sam is one of them. And if there is anyone who deserves that chance, it’s him.  
  “Sam?”, I call out.  
He turns around, questioning eyes meet mine. The breath that escapes his throat as he sways when he shifts his balance to one leg shows a trace of annoyance, even though he tries to hide it and be patient with me. His body language causes me to hesitate, but I tell him either way.  
  “Y’know we made a hell of a team back there”.  
Sam keeps a hold of my gaze, then nods slightly as a small smile forms on his lips.  
  “Yeah…”, he acknowledges.  
I grant him a few seconds to change his mind, but then I straighten my back and put the gear in ‘drive’, afterwhich I steer the Impala back onto the road. I bite down the frustration, my jaw flexing as I do so, doing my best to cast out my emotions. I've been here before, when Sam left for Stanford in the first place. An uneasiness settles in my stomach now that we are apart, torn between what I’m supposed to do and what I truly want. Pain pricks my heart now that I find myself alone, without my brother by my side. And as I drive off only accompanied by old tunes on cassette tapes, I don't see that Sam watches me leave. I don't hear the shuddering sigh that leaves his lips as the rumble of the engine fades in the distance. I don’t know that down, Sam feels it too.

 


End file.
